


In Which Mr Norrell is Impatient (and Childermass Does His Best to Satisfy Requirements)

by Predatrix



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Anal Sex, Desperation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:18:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5013253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predatrix/pseuds/Predatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I did a quick post on Tumblr about Childerrell/a.k.a. Spiced Dumpling, and it got such a nice response (particularly from errandofmercy, thank you, dear) that I ended up ficcing it. </p><p>I have to apologise to errandofmercy for giving her the idea of the threesome fantasy to write--and then using it myself because it fitted into the fic I was writing so well! Oops. </p><p>Hope this is suitably filthy, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Mr Norrell is Impatient (and Childermass Does His Best to Satisfy Requirements)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [errandofmercy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/errandofmercy/gifts).



"All right, what have I done _this_ time?" asked Norrell. Childermass had been out riding for nearly two weeks, and Norrell had a rather urgent desire to get back to normal. By which he meant, in bed, under Childermass, and being fucked into a comfortable heap until he could sleep very thoroughly. 

Childermass sighed. "Oh well, at least you're easier to manage nowadays."

Norrell looked offended. In his night-clothes, this meant that he looked rather like a distinctly ruffled hedgehog in a night-shirt with its little nose in the air. 

"I used to have to go through explaining whatever you'd done wrong, then you'd sulk, then you _still_ wouldn't apologise, but you'd maybe do something apologetic... It just took a lot of time." He put his hand on Norrell's. "Now there's something I can do, that you like," he added, in a lower voice, "it makes it quicker to get to that point."

"If I've done something wrong, I've forgotten it by now," Norrell admitted. 

"You sacked the best cook we've had in three years because you had a fit of temper. And I was put to a deal of inconvenience on my travels to get her back."

"Did you get the books, as well?" Norrell asked him eagerly. 

"Not that there were many of them, but yes. Then I had to catch up with Mrs Edwards on her way South and convince her that you were an idiot, in the interests of any of us getting breakfasts that aren't burned black in the next month. And that includes your sweet gruel just as much as it includes our sausages and eggs. So now she knows if you sack her, ignore it entirely and take it up with me."

Mr Norrell muttered something about this being _his_ household, rather sulkily. 

"Are you going to cook the breakfasts, then, sir?" Childermass noticed Norrell didn't say anything about "insolence", and privately decided he must be getting a little desperate by now.

"Consider whatever-it-is apologised-for!" said Norrell, rather huffily. "You can have the entire run of the kitchens, and sweeten the temper of any necessary cook, just as you chuse."

"That's the best I get, is it?" Childermass favoured Norrell with his best crooked grin. 

"You shall come here and help me keep warm?" said Norrell. It sounded more pleading than the words would account for, so Childermass took it as a request rather than a demand. 

Childermass sighed, in the manner of a somewhat put-upon person. "I thought you'd give me a bit of time to straighten-up. I've barely got off the horse, let alone bathed the way you like me to."

Norrell groaned a little. "Time for that later." He breathed in near Childermass. "You're _filthy,_ and you smell of _horse,_ and I still wish to have you without waiting for you," he said. He thought a moment. "But wash your hands before they go anywhere near my arse," he said. Evidently he still had his particular standards, even if somewhat relaxed. 

So Childermass had the chance to nip out, piss, and wash his hands, as a sort of minimally-acceptable break, before he came back in. 

"I could do with some dinner," he suggested, it having been some time since he sat down for a meal (or anything edible that wasn't bread-and-cheese). 

Norrell squinted up at him. "Do you think you might manage for a while?"

Childermass snorted at him. "Meaning, 'will I manage to service you without fainting on you?' I daresay I can cope well enough if you're _that_ desperate, but you'll have to be quick about it, and not mind me being off to take my dinner straight after."

Norrell sighed, and got up on his hands and knees. 

"Pull the skirts of your nightshirt up, let me see what I'm getting," said Childermass, slapping him on the rump, and feeling that sudden twist of excitement at how Norrell got all quiet and obedient when he was randy enough.

He prepared both of them with the salve Norrell kept beside the bed, lewdly enjoying the obscene noises as he worked himself hard and Norrell open. 

"Come on, then, let me have you," he said, and got into position. He thrust as deep as he could, no nonsense about careful preparation, this was about getting them what they both needed quickly and thoroughly, and then he could have dinner and Norrell could get a decent night's sleep. 

Norrell groaned deeply. 

"Hurt?"

"No," said Norrell, with a slight tone of 'you idiot', as he began to move, rolling his hips eagerly. 

"Come on, then, let's get you settled and I can go to dinner," Childermass said, and cursed himself for a fool as Norrell went still, with a slightly unhappy sigh. Norrell didn't do well with ultimata, however kindly-meant, and he wasn't a young man; that would likely have him thinking 'can I manage in time? How long have I got?'

Luckily Childermass knew a few ideas that got his master going, whether he'd admit to them or not. One of them was a disgraceful little fantasy about both of them, in the library, with Jonathan Strange. "Imagine the young gentleman getting a little...entangled, with a bit of a naughty spell, and we help him out," he whispered in Norrell's ear. Norrell would never admit to such a wicked idea (three of them! And one married!) but that particular fantasy always seemed to get him about ready to explode, which was convenient if they were in a hurry. 

Norrell was getting a bit noisy by this time. "Go on!" he gasped, and dragged Childermass's hand where he wanted it, with a grunt of pleasure as Childermass squeezed him. 

"So he's up your arse--you like them big, don't you." Childermass kept working him, hand in front and prick behind. 

Norrell gasped, "Yes!" Childermass was not entirely sure whether he'd lost track of the idea of a rhetorical question or was merely expressing considerable enthusiasm. After all, he liked _Childermass's_ size. 

"And I've got it in his mouth," said Childermass, frigging him heartily. 

"I'm close!" said Norrell. "Mm--come in me, fill me right up until I nearly burst!"

Childermass gasped, "I'll fuck you full of me!" and obliged him. Then he heard and felt Norrell come off vigorously, swearing frantically and then losing all verbal capacity in favour of deep, shuddering groans of pleasure. It was a little uncomfortable for him just after he'd come, but he liked to feel wanted, and Norrell never left him in any possible doubt of that.

He went off to see what he could find for supper, leaving his shagged-out master asleep in the bed (he only paused to straighten his nightclothes and bedclothes in case Norrell would get cold). Norrell muttered something about "will you come back?" so Childermass promised he would. 

That night, after a supper of vaguely-identifiable stew (he was very glad Mrs Edwards would return) and a bath, he came back to Norrell's bed. 

Norrell looked at him, half-awake. "Can we do it again?" he suggested, but was blinking sleepily before Childermass answered. 

Childermass had a suspicion that Norrell sometimes wanted to ask for affection, but found it simpler to ask for pleasure. "Cuddle now, we can see if you want any more in the morning," he said firmly. 

He wasn't surprised when Norrell wrapped himself round him and went to sleep. He was also not surprised when Norrell got (more lazily) demanding around dawn, although he was glad that this time Norrell was happy getting them off with a quick rub each and going back to sleep, mumbling something affectionate. 

Kissing him on his ear, Childermass said, "Good morning, sir," and got up to go about his duties. 

Norrell said something vaguely complaining. 

"Unless you're sacking me and hiring me on as a whore," said Childermass, "I do have my actual work to do. I can come and tuck you in tonight, if you would like it." He did usually rather like the days straight after he'd been away on a trip: Norrell was usually very grateful for his attentions for a while, and it made him sweeter-natured. Until it wore off.

Norrell sleepily put his arms up for a hug, so Childermass gave him a quick hug and kiss, and actually _did_ tuck him in.


End file.
